


ruff day

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Tumblr Prompts [25]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, College Student Stiles, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, Werewolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:38:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8455675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Stiles' dog always goes nuts whenever he sees Derek. This time his dog has gotten off the leash and chased after him. Only now, both the dog and Derek are barking at each other. Seriously, what the hell?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aleclightw0od](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=aleclightw0od).



> For the werewolf meet-cute prompt: 5. My dog goes nuts every time she sees you and this time she got off the leash and tore after you, except now you’re both barking at each other and I’m not sure what to do.

Stiles had a routine.

Every morning he woke up at seven thirty to shower, brush his teeth, and get dressed in time to head to his first class of the day, always allotting enough time to stop by his favorite local bakery and grab a coffee on his way to school. From nine to one he was in class, only ten to twelve on Wednesdays with the weekends off, afterwards heading straight to the station to bring his dad some lunch and help the rookie deputies file some paperwork, in the process racking up valuable community service hours.

After lunch was his favorite part of the day. He’d take Blake, the sheriff’s station’s new resident canine mascot, a solid black German shepherd, for a long walk through the nearby memorial park.

Sometimes they would just stroll through the park, take a nice leisurely walk after a long, stressful day. Other times they would stop to play fetch, using sticks or tennis balls or whatever else they could find, spending hours playing with other people and their dogs.

So, with both his AP psychology and Mythology and Folklore Studies classes cancelled on Friday, he drove in to the station with his dad in the morning, a bag of tennis balls in the backseat of the cruiser. He hoped to finish up his duties at the station early and take Blake to the park ahead of schedule, praying Hot Leather Jacket Guy™ wasn’t there yet.

Every time he took Blake to the park, usually around three in the afternoon, Hot Leather Jacket Guy―or HLJG for short―was there, typically sitting on a park bench reading books or magazines, minding his own business. He was easily the most beautiful person Stiles had ever seen, of any gender or lack thereof, with his perfectly sculpted stubble and thick black hair that Stiles wanted to bury his hands in. 

He also seemed extremely nice. Stiles had seen him escorting lost children back to their parents and rescuing kites and kittens stuck in trees. Stiles had nearly gone into cardiac arrest when he saw HLJG strip off his leather jacket to wrap it around a teeny tiny white kitten he’d somehow scooped out of a storm drain.

Yet, for whatever unfathomable reason, Blake absolutely  _ hated _ him.

Every time they meandered through the park and Blake caught sight of HLJG he launched into the canine equivalent of histrionics, without fail. He would bark incessantly, whine dramatically as he planted his butt down on the walking path and refused to budge, even glare at the poor guy.

Stiles apologized every time it happened, Blake’s loud barking usually startling HLJG as he tried to read, promising it wouldn’t happen again even though they both knew it most certainly would. HLJG always took it in stride, shrugging it off with a dogs will be dogs attitude, smiling brightly enough to make Stiles’ heart skip a beat.

Hoping for the best, Stiles grabbed Blake’s leash off its designated hook by the door of the Sheriff’s office as soon as he was done sorting through and filing old cold case files, filling Parrish in on how their filing system worked. Bidding the deputies goodbye for the time being, he hooked Blake up to his leash and started out to the park, crossing his fingers as he jogged across the street with Blake at his side.

For the first half of their walk things were perfectly fine. Blake curiously sniffed around the flower beds of bright goldenrod and purple monkshood, peed on a handful of trees, even flirted with a cute poodle by the wishing fountain.

All in all, it was a looking to be a pretty good day. Until Blake caught sight of HLJG.

Before Stiles even knew what was happening, Blake was tearing across the park, leash flying out of Stiles’ hands, leaving rope burn in its wake. Wincing as he cradled his aching palms to his chest, Stiles raced after Blake, shouting his name at the top of his lungs in hopes Blake would stop, would turn around, would not maul the poor guy.

He managed to catch up to the frantic dog and grab his leash before Blake could launch himself at HLJG, instead opting to keep barking at the poor guy. Stiles was about to shush Blake when he realized the German shepherd wasn’t the only one who was growling.

Head snapping up in shock, eyes wide as saucers, Stiles gawked at HLJG who was too focused growling at Blake to even notice that Stiles was there.  _ Growling. _

And not just a weak, human imitation of growling. No, it was full on animalistic snarling, his upper lip curled to bare his teeth, canines looking unusually sharp.

“Yo, what the fuck,” Stiles mumbled, too aghast to do anything but hold Blake’s leash and gape at the hot growling guy he’d been fantasizing about for months. Oh god, he really hoped HLJG wasn’t a furry. He didn’t think he could handle that.

Apparently his incredulous comment drew HLJG’s attention as he immediately stopped growling, whipping his head to the side to look at Stiles with wide eyes. He simultaneously looked both embarrassed and terrified and Stiles couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to be murdered to hide HLJG’s faux pas.

“Uh, hi,” Stiles said dumbly, not really sure what else to do in these types of situations. Then again, he’d never heard of this type of situation before. “Um, sorry about him. I really don’t know what his problem with you is.”

Realizing his words may not sound too polite, he rushed to add, “I mean, he doesn’t act like this around anyone else. He’s usually pretty chill, which probably doesn’t really mean much considering he’s such an asshole to you―” he paused to take a deep breath “―This isn’t really helping, is it?”

HLJG shook his head, running a hand through his glorious head of hair, Stiles almost whining in jealousy of that hand. Chin ducked almost shyly, HLJG quietly announced, “I think I might know why he doesn’t like me?”

“Really?” Stiles asked, interest immediately piqued. He really hoped the explanation included a valid reason for why he was just growling at Blake. “I figured it was probably just your body wash or your aftershave or something he doesn’t like the smell of.”

HLJG scratched the back of his neck as he furtively glanced around the park, as though checking to see if anyone was eavesdropping on what he was about to say. Stiles couldn’t help but think it was more than a bit suspicious, tightening his grip on Blake’s leash. 

“Look, it’s gonna sound weird but I promise I’m not crazy,” he started, looking down at his shoes. Stiles couldn’t wait to hear it. HLJG glanced up to meet Stiles’ eyes as he announced. “I’m a werewolf.”

Several seconds passed before either of them spoke, staring at each other while Blake continued barking.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense,” Stiles nodded, running a calming hand over Blake’s head, scratching behind his right ear. “You wanna do your whole eye flashy thing? I know that calms dogs down.”

“What?” HLJG asked incredulously. “Why aren’t you freaking out?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Dude. I know about werewolves. My best friend’s one.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.  _ Oh. _ ” Stiles nodded. He waved a hand at HLJG. “So go ahead, man. Do your thing.”

Blinking a few times, apparently still in shock of Stiles’ pre-existing knowledge about the supernatural, HLJG shook himself before looking down at Blake and flashing his eyes, a bright fiery red taking over the hazel of his irises. Blake immediately stopped barking, obediently sitting down at Stiles’ feet, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he grinned up at HLJG, all animosity completely forgotten.

“Well, at least that’s settled,” Stiles murmured, loosening his hold of the leash to bring his still throbbing hands to his chest, gingerly probing at the tender pink flesh with a wince. 

“Are you okay?” HLJG asked, striding forward to Stiles’ side. He very carefully took Stiles’ hands in his own, uncurling his fingers to examine the livid welts on Stiles’ palms that were sure to blister. “Here, let me look at that.”

He led Stiles over to the nearest bench by his wrist, Balek trotting after them, sitting him down so he could better inspect the damage. Gently running his warm fingers over the edge of Stiles’ palm, he winced and ventured, “Does it hurt?”

“Like a bitch,” Stiles replied immediately, trying not to squirm too much as HLJG tilted his head to get a better look at the red welts on Stiles’ hands.

“Here, this should help,” HLJG announced, tentatively curling one of his hands around the back of Stiles’ palms. Stiles watched in fascination as pitch black veins zigzagged up HLJG’s hand, disappearing up the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“Oh, wow,” Stiles gasped, curiously trailing a finger up the darkened veins on Derek’s hand as the pain in his own gradually dissipated. “That is so cool, dude.”

HLJG snorted as Blake laid down at their feet, tail wagging lazily as he rested his chin on HLJG’s shoe. Looking up at Stiles from under his eyelashes, HLJG said, “I’m Derek.” 

“I’m Stiles,” he returned with a wide smile, glad he finally found out HLJG’s name. At least now he knew what to call out when he touched himself thinking about him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Stiles,” Derek claimed, running his thumb over the sensitive skin of Stiles’ wrist with a soft smile.

“And this is Blake,” Stiles introduced, nodding at the dog who had rolled over onto his side, raising his head at the mention of his name.

Derek snorted again, reaching out a hand to rub Blake's head, greeting, "It's nice to meet you too, Blake."

Turning back to Stiles, Derek quietly asked, "Do your hands feel better?"

"Yeah, they do," Stiles confirmed, only a dull throb remaining in his palms. "Thank you."

"Here, let me give you number," Derek suggested, reaching into his pocket to tug out a small slip of paper and a pen. He quickly jotted down his number and handed Stiles the piece of paper. "So you can call me if they hurt again. Or..."

"Or?" Stiles pressed hopefully, perking up as he read over the number Derek had given.

"Or," Derek continued. "If you wanna get dinner sometime."

"Yeah, definitely," Stiles nodded eagerly, beaming up at Derek.

Stiles had a routine. And as much as he loved it a little bit of spontaneity, like a date with a hottie in a leather jacket, was always good too.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to send me prompts on [Tumblr!](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)


End file.
